A Warden's Rose
by devilsalt
Summary: Vesper Cousland was never suppose to be a Grey Warden, but she had already lost everything.  Chance would have her leading the way to end the blight, but destiny would give her everything she'd ever hoped for.  And it all started with a rose.
1. Warden

****Guess what I did? I deleted the next chapter for _A Dangerous Thing_. Instead of hitting the 'edit' button I hit 'remove' and wasn't even fazed by the pop-up...so yeah. Thankfully I have half of it written on a file somewhere on my laptop, but I was practically done with it before the accident. So I'm kind of bummed right now. That would be why I am uploading this first chapter to my Cousland story. Honest opinion guys, Does it suck? Did I butcher the canon intro? Is this way too different? As you can probably tell, I'm not too happy with this chapter for some reason, and it may be changed. So I thought I'd go ahead and get some opinions first.****

**_April 4th, 2012: _Beta-ed by my new beta ObsessionistXO  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>WARDEN<strong>

* * *

><p>"Here, keep this on your back, it'll keep you warm." The Grey Warden brought fourth a fur blanket that he managed to salvage from his belongings, and draped it around the frame of her shoulders. The young Cousland clutched the blanket close to her body, holding its warmth within; and only loosened her grip when her Mabari hound nudged himself under the shroud as well. With an average fire burning in the center of their mini camp, it wasn't long until she was both toasty and tired. She curiously looked towards the Grey Warden, Duncan, whom was beginning to make himself comfortable against a fallen tree trunk. Duncan removed a flask tied at his waist and took a swig before passing along the water to her. "Tonight you must rest My Lady, and at dawn we will head for Ostagar," she listened to him fully, while tipping the flask for her faithful hound to lap. It didn't seem to bother the warden and he carefully replaced the cap before tying it back to his belt.<p>

She squinted into the dancing flames, searching for words. "I cannot begin to thank you Ser Duncan," was what she ended up saying to the Grey Warden, who looked at her in woe. He held up his hand before she could say anything more, and shook his head undeserving.

"I'm afraid your thanks will mean nothing until Arl Howe is brought to justice your ladyship," he answered her, retouching his promise to inform King Cailan of Howe's betrayal. Still, he had saved her from the raid on Highever, and for that she would always be thankful. Seeing that Duncan wasn't going to listen for a 'but', she adjusted herself against the heavy log she sat along with her back. The young noble knew the sun would be up in a handful of hours and they would soon be walking the Imperial Highway again towards Ostagar. So sleep, no matter how long, was a necessity at the time being. She turned and rested her head against her furry companion, bunching the blanket to make a pillow against his muscular back. In response she felt the wriggling of her hound's tail and answered him with a scratch behind the ear.

She soon found herself in a slumber, but the young lady was haunted by terrifying images of her slaughtered family and friends. Her poor sister-in-law, who had only hours before saw her husband off to Ostagar, with her throat slashed and her Orlesian robes violently displaced; to her side the worst of the horror, which her mother had answered with a piercing cry. 'Little Oren' as her mother had always called him, her nephew, had an open gash the same as his dead mother's. Everything only became worst as they left for the secret entrance in the larder, Old Nan had been beaten before fatally given a sword wound and her elf helpers met similar fates. But it was what was behind the larder door which brought her to an abrupt awakening, her heart lively against her ribcage.

"You're awake," came Duncan's voice over the smoke of the smothered fire, he was feeding her Mabari something from his hand, "Good, it is time we get going." The only Cousland daughter sat-up suddenly, looking shakily down at her hands, half expecting her father's blood to still be a stain on the palms of her hands. She looked away relieved, thankfully remembering when the Grey Warden allowed her to stop and wash her hands. "My Lady," he was now handing her the family sword and shield, the Highever emblem carved neatly into the metal.

"Vesper," she responded, shrugging off the fur blanket and holding it up to fold. Duncan only nodded at her correction and continued to gather the remaining articles of their hasty camp. Vesper Cousland strapped her father's shield across her back and family sword into the sheath attached to her belt, which hung a little from the weight. To keep traveling light, she removed the scarf at her waist and used it to tie the blanket to the Mabari's back; whom sat rather proudly as she tightened the knot. She had no looking-glass, so there was no way to see if there was blood on her face or if her hair was matted and dirty; and asking the Grey Warden for an honest opinion seemed unimportant at the moment. When there was nothing left but an ashy fire pit and a fallen tree, Vesper followed Duncan back to the highway.

It wasn't as terrible as a walk as she had imagined, but it was different from her travels to Denerim or Orlais where usually a comfy carriage was involved. But the chance to see Ferelden at its rawest was a satisfying experience along the Imperial Highway. They scarcely stopped, save to use the bathroom or pass around the diminishing flask. And they barely spoke, but there was little to nothing for either of them to say. So in silence they walked, and only when the sun was at its highest and was beating relentlessly on her back did she ask to momentarily seek shade. Ten minutes she spent at the base of a tree, removing the hot blanket from her hound's back and tucking it between her back and her shield, fearing he might overheat. During that time Duncan had found water and perhaps for the tenth time they shared the flask. Just as she was growing comfortable, the warden helped her to her feet and they were off again.

It wasn't until dark that they finally reached Ostagar. The sun still peeked over the distant horizon, but just barely, and workers across the ruin were beginning to light the torches. Vesper breathed a sigh of relief, there was only one final obstacle and then, if her luck hadn't entirely run sour, a hot meal would be waiting for her. The bridge of Ostagar had seen better days, areas had crumbled and fallen into the wide ravine below, but there was plenty of walking room left. Now that they had reached their destination, the young Cousland felt no need to match the Grey Warden's quick steps and she gladly took her time crossing the overpass; staring wowed by the view. It only took her a little longer to reach the other side however, when her war hound realized his fear of heights and had cowered some distance behind her. After a little coaxing, they both rejoined Duncan.

"There is a great battle upon us, therefore we must have your ritual immediately," he said in a seriousness she felt was laced with fear. The young recruit had entirely forgotten she was to become a Grey Warden, in all honesty, that last conversation with her parents was all still a blur. Duncan saw the sadness cross her face and directly changed the topic, "Let us find Alistair, the junior Grey Warden, and get you settled in for the meantime."

Duncan led Vesper through the camp, and the entire time she viewed those around her with the utmost curiously. She noticed tents set-up for the Circle of Magi, and a couple of mages setting campfire with their magic. There was a kennel with Mabari hounds all sleeping, a small gathering around a revered mother of the Chantry, a place where the wounded were being tended to, and soldiers everywhere. In passing however, none of them she recognized as part of her father's army that travelled with Fergus the morning prior. She prayed they were gathered somewhere else within the King's camp. They passed through the remains of an epic archway, to which Vesper looked up admirably before setting her eyes on the colony of tents in the next clearing with a big bonfire surrounded by men in the center. Laughter and cheers rung through her ears. She smelt the strong aroma of mead and stew, a combination all too familiar in the soldiers' barracks back at Highever Castle. Duncan approached the crowd, clearing his throat once he was in hearing.

"Duncan!" One man stood up where a stump had been made his seat and he pressed past the dining men to greet them, although he wasn't entirely sure how to receive Vesper's presence by the way he was looking at her. Upon closer look, and what little light the fire provided from where they stood, he was a handsome fellow and appeared rather glad to see the Grey Warden. "I see you found our final recruit, although..." he paused to consider his words, "I was pretty sure you said it was a he." His last words were said in a hush, probably to avoid Vesper from hearing, but she undoubtedly did.

"Alistair, this is Vesper Cousland of Highever," Duncan answered plainly. The name Cousland obviously had made an effect, for the man immediately stiffly smiled in embarrassment and nervously laughed.

"These days some men look like women, and women like men." The young Cousland looked at him perplexed, was he insulting her? The young man must have recognized what was wrong with what he said and worriedly waved his arms back and fourth. "Not saying you look like a man of course! It's just that some women walking around with a sword can be misleading-," he made notice of the sword attached to her hip. "Not you of course! No you're- you're" she watched as he quickly regarded her from head to toe, "You're definitely woman."

"Alistair!" Duncan huffed, embarrassed by his protégé and shaking his head. Other than the minor slander, Vesper was a little flattered and couldn't help but briefly smile at the man's flustered apology.

"Right. I'm Alistair, guess that's what should of came out of my blubbering mouth first," he extended his hand to her and she found that her own small hand fit snugly in his grasp. Unlike most of the soldiers that were parading about the camp, this Alistair, was wearing only a linen tunic and his breeches while his leather boots were still tied on his feet. Looking past him, she saw that most of the others he had been sitting with were all under dressed as well. "I'm the junior Grey Warden," he finished, releasing her hand back to her waist.

"Please show Lady Cousland to her tent, and make sure she has a nice hot meal," Duncan proceeded into the business of things, "I must go see the mages about the ritual." During their travels, the warden had only mentioned the ritual once and that it was necessary for all initiates. She curiously asked of the ritual, but he edged around her questions, assuring her it was an essential secret of the Grey Wardens. From then on she didn't bother to ask him anything more, she passed the time by thinking of various ways she could kill Arl Howe.

Duncan left her and her loyal hound in the care of Alistair, although she wasn't confident he was all too prepared to do so. The junior warden clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "To your tent then." He turned to lead, but had waited for her to walk beside him rather than behind him. Vesper watched the feasting wardens, whom all at least looked at her in a glance; followed by a chorus of 'my lady' and knew they had overheard Duncan's introduction of her. In passing, she noticed all the grey wardens to be men, except what looked like an elf on the far side of the bonfire.

They progressed from one tent to the next, each tall enough to stand in and big enough to home three men. Vesper was waiting to stop at any one of them, expecting she'd be normal for once and get to share a tent with the wardens. However when the junior warden had stopped at the last tent and pulled back the opening for her, she looked down at a single bed roll, perhaps a little more plush than it should have been. Vesper walked in disappointedly, so the nobility thing was still going follow her to the front lines. She stopped in the center and took a quick look around, patting her Mabari on the back when he brushed past her to get to the bed roll. "Are you sure he was expecting a he?" the young Cousland turned back to Alistair, recalling when Duncan had told her he had intentionally come to Highever to recruit her instead of Ser Gilmore.

"Well not per se-" the warden said, obviously trying to recall the conversation. "I remember Duncan mentioning wanting to recruit the Teryn's daughter- well you," he fumbled, "but that he would have to be satisfied with one of your father's knights." So if the bastard Arl Howe hadn't raided her family's castle, Ser Gilmore would be sharing a tent with the wardens and Vesper would be teaching Oren how to use a sword; a wooden one of course. Vesper began to unbuckle her belt, forgetting she was in the presence of the warden. "Well, I'll just- uhm," the young recruit looked back at him again, "Food, yes food. You must be starving?" She nodded and smiled to calm him, "Of course you are. I'll just...go check the stew, make sure it's not...entirely terrible."

Vesper listened to him step away from her tent before she remembered to call him back, "Do you have a spare shirt?" That puzzled the junior warden, whom cautiously nodded.

"I don't think it's going to fit though," he pointed out the obvious, watching as she nodded and gently placed her scabbard and sword on the ground.

"Yes, well anything not soaked in blood right?" she replied humorously, showing him her sleeve which faintly glittered in the dim light. It was hard to believe that it could still be damp after all this time, and that it was mostly that of her late father. That made her inhale sharply.

"Yes...blood is bad," he answered her while she continued to undress, now working at the straps of her chest plate; "I'll just go get that spare shirt then." Alistair disappeared and Vesper felt a little awkward.

She had hoped that joining the Grey Wardens meant no more royal treatment by her comrades, but obviously that wasn't going to be the case. She struggled for a moment on the difficult buckle on her shoulder, before it clattered about her feet and she could finally breathe. It wasn't until she had removed it that the young Cousland noticed the large dent in her armor, the result of a brutal tackle of one of Howe's Mabari hounds released into the castle. Vesper breathed pleasantly for the first time since the attack and went on to remove her gauntlets and the armor plates buckled to her boots. She was down to her blood stained shift and socks when Alistair had returned, only pushing his hand through the entry when he had noticed she was far more undressed than he thought she'd be.

"Does this suit the lady?" he asked of her from outside the folds of her tent, pulling back his hand when she had relieved his spare tunic from his grasp. Vesper pulled her dirty shift over her head along with her brassiere, since it too had fallen victim to the blood bath. She looked at herself noticing she was in a desperate need of a bath to wash away the dried blood, and even some of the pain. However there was no time for pleasantries tonight, so the recruit took Alistair's tunic and easily pushed her limbs through its openings. It was long enough that she didn't need to wear her dirty stockings, a nice mid-thigh length that covered her small clothes. The sleeves were of course big, but she rolled them up to her elbows to fix that. Perhaps the only fault in his shirt was that it exposed a little more bosom than was appropriate, but it was clean and frankly she didn't care.

"I'd say it's a perfect fit." Vesper stepped out of her private tent barefoot, and carefully presented herself to Alistair. He'd obviously noticed the low collar line as well, but made the effort not to comment.

"Hungry? We saved you some stew," he said instead, smiling, "I can assure you it is quite...bad, but it'll feel you up!" Vesper could care less whether the food was bad or not, she was just interested in satisfying that ache in her belly. "I suppose this is the part where I escort you there," the junior warden jested, stepping in toe beside her when she took the firs step.

Alistair took her to the assembly of wardens, to which he introduced her to the lot of them and made it quite clear she was indeed a woman when one of them poked fun at his earlier comment. There was the convenient empty space on the grass, included with a decorative blanket for cushion. Partially annoyed by the royal treatment, she decided to take her obvious place, but not before she handed the blanket to a warden beside her and sat cross-legged on the grass. A hefty bowl of stew was passed to her through the various conversations, and she was surprised by the satisfactory blandness. Alistair took his place beside her, perhaps out of duty to Duncan and watched intrigued as she asked for another bowl. After a fourth bowl of the tasteless stew, she asked for one more and decided to save it for her dog.

Through overhearing, Vesper learned they had been in battle thrice times before her arrival, but the Darkspawn gave the impression their numbers were only growing in number. Some mentioned terrible nightmares of the blight and the feeling of 'feeling' Darkspawn, which made Vesper, wonder just what she agreed to. She had also learned that five others had been recruited, where they were amongst the crowd though she didn't know. Still only a recruit, the young woman felt blind sighted to just how serious this blight was and that a shared feeling of doom had crossed paths with the warden. She jumped slightly at a hand on her shoulder; all the talk of bad and evil had left her jumpy. "Duncan will be coming soon, are you going to take that to your hound?"

She looked down at what was probably cold stew now and nodded, "Yeah he's probably starving as much as I was."

"Then allow me to escort you back," the change in Alistair's dialect was unexpected, especially after all the rambling and jokes. Vesper carefully got to her feet, avoiding toppling into the others or dumping stew on someone. It was rather dark now and she was thankful for the junior warden as her guide, who easily found her tent through the darkness.

Inside her tent, the acrophobic Mabari hound was resting with his head stooped against the fury blanket she had carried. He greeted her happily, but only gave the warden a mere narrowed look before sitting promptly before his master. Vesper scratched the top of his head and knelt down to place the bowl in front of him, "It's a little cold, but I don't think you'll mind." The hound tilted his head knowingly at her and went to eat when she stepped aside, back to where Alistair was standing in observation. "Didn't think so," she chuckled when he scarfed it down.

"So what is his name? Cerberus? Barkspawn? Ser Barker?" Alistair wondered, watching as Vesper shook her head to each suggestion. "Oscar? I bet it's Oscar, he looks like an Oscar," he leaned over to pet the feasting hound, surprised when the dog gave him a look and carried the bowl further away in the tent. "I don't think he likes him," the warden grumbled.

Vesper chuckled behind her hand, "Nothing as extravagant as that. It's simply Dog."

"Dog?" Upon the use of his name, the Mabari hound raised his head from where he now ate. Alistair noticed and shook his head, "Sorry not talking to you." Dog gave him an unpleasant look with his ears flattened and then went to lick the bowl clean. The warden looked sternly at the floor, realizing he was just talking to a dog. "Well that's boring..." he dragged out about the name, propping a brow at Vesper. Before she could answer, there was a gruff voice outside the tent. "That must be Duncan," Alistair stated.

And it was. The two emerged from the tent and Alistair went to stand by the older warden, whom was no longer carrying his sword now but still wearing most of his armor. He greeted Vesper with a nod and gestured for her to walk with him, the junior mage following close behind. She was shown back into the King's Camp and away from the wardens in silence, until they had climbed the stairway of a ruin and towards a stone carved table. Already on the table was a large chalice, decorated in red gems and glittering in the moonlight. Duncan went to stand by the table, while Vesper kept her distance. "While we usually require initiates to go into the wilds to retrieve a vial of Darkspawn blood for themselves, time is of the essence, and it is too late to have you venturing into the Korcari Wilds," the grey warden walked to the chalice and spilled the contents of a vile into it's contents.

"Is this the joining then?" she asked, twisting her head to peer at Alistair. He nodded, suddenly averting his eyes away from her.

"Yes, the joining requires you to drink the blood of the Darkspawn and master their taint," Duncan spoke bluntly of it, revealing the glistening liquid in the chalice. Vesper suddenly felt regretful and doubtful, trying to wrap her finger around the concept.

"Isn't their blood poison, I could die?" she had already known what the answer was, but she needed a confirmation from the two wardens with her. They shared a look between themselves and then Alistair answered for her.

"Yes, you could die," it almost saddened him to say, "But it is the appropriate risk to end the blight." Vesper felt that impending thought of dying and the same emotions she had felt in Highever were suddenly flooding back. However, this was different; she couldn't cut her way to survival, this was about chance.

She raised her head proudly and clenched her fists, gazing nobly at Duncan, "What have I got to loose." There was nothing left to take from her, she had already lost everything. Vesper left her mother and father to die when she too should have been caught in the slaughter. If she was to parish now, it didn't matter. She would just have to seek justice in the afterlife. Her decision made, she nodded to Duncan, who then nodded to Alistair.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you parish," as if some sort of omen of words, Vesper watched as Alistair spoke, his eyes now lingering on her too. "Know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you." Duncan now had the chalice carried with both hands, crossing that small gap between him and her. All the while her heart pounded in anticipation, would she survive or parish? Presented to her, Vesper took the chalice to herself and gazed disgusted at the black taint floating along the brim. She couldn't hesitate. So just as swiftly as she cut through Howe's men that barged into her room last night, Vesper Cousland drank from the chalice; and she made sure she had swallowed every last drop.


	2. Battle Plan

**Finally got around to finishing the second chapter, I've just been so busy with getting A Dangerous Thing to an actual plot that I've forgotten to post this chapter, especially since it was mostly done. From the next chapter on it will resemble more of the game, I just did the intro different because I like the idea of having other Wardens recruited...especially ones mentioned in another story...hint, hint. Any who, I really like how this chapter starts and then the end kind of gets boring...I'm sorry, I was running out of creativity. Please review, I'd really appreciate it what you readers think so far :)**

**_April 4th, 2012: _Beta-ed by my new beta ObsessionistXO**

* * *

><p><strong>BATTLE PLAN<strong>

* * *

><p>The ledge was barely abreast in width and in length, surrounded by a deep gorge of vivid magma. A hot breeze came up from the deep, curling through her hair, smelling of brimstone and stealing the oxygen from her quickening breaths. The air was thick and searing as Vesper struggled to keep her footing, nearly falling when a piece of rock gave way beneath her bare heel. Suddenly the earth shook violently beneath her feet, and before the young noble could keep her bearings, the ground rattled much more fiercely again. She fell onto her knees, inches from the edge and clutching to the rock by her fingertips. The vibrating continued up the towering height of the column she stood on, growing closer and louder, until they had stopped entirely. Vesper crawled slowly back onto her feet, spying over the edge for an answer, but a smouldering heat blown across her back left her frozen. Shaking in fear, she turned slowly around and gasped in terror. A colossus dragon was staring her down, lowly growling when their eyes met. Vesper felt tears dry before they left her cheek from the heat and watched as the monster began to recoil its head. In seconds it stroke with its mouth agape, barely giving her time to scream.<p>

Vesper woke gasping for air and clawing at her throat; it burned and painfully stung, as if it had been consumed by fire. It took the young noble a few moments to realize it had just been a dream, although the cold sweat and tears were all very true. She began to wipe her face on her sleeve, brushing back strands of her dark hair. Then abruptly she heard whimpering and felt a hot long tongue pass over her salty cheek. The Cousland daughter tilted her head to glance under heavy lids at her Mabari hound, whom continued to whine and lick her face. She tiredly leaned against him, scratching his favorite spot behind the ear and sniffling. Vesper had never had such a nightmare, nothing that had felt so terrifyingly real; she could almost still smell the sulphur. She was ready to fall back asleep again, but when Dog stopped cleaning her up and growled at the front of her tent, Vesper sat-up more promptly.

"Oh," there was a heavy sigh of relief from the entrance and the junior warden Alistair stepped inside, "Thank the Maker you're alright." He spoke sincerely in what he said, not falsely as so many had to her in times past. He crouched as close to her as he could, for Dog walked up to Alistair and sat guard in front of his mistress. The Grey Warden took the hint and seated himself where he knelt, crossly glaring at Dog before passing his focus to Vesper. "How are you feeling? You've been unconscious since the joining last night."

That vaguely helped her remember anything. Vesper recalled the Warden's Oath Alistair recited and the passing of the chalice to her, but after that everything had blurred together. She remembered Duncan saying something to her, but his words ran in with what the other warden was adding. Then they had given her something, which subconsciously made Vesper look down. Hanging around her neck was an amulet, strung in a gold chain and decorated with a small glass vial filled with a red liquid. She momentarily fingered it, particularly remembering that it was Alistair that had placed it on her person. Vesper looked up at him, where he had pulled out his own similar amulet. "It's Darkspawn blood, sort of a reminder to those that succumb to the taint during the joining," he explained, sadly looking one last time at his before replacing it behind the collar of his tunic. She regarded it with more respect, clutching it tightly in her fist.

"Anyhow, now you're up, Duncan will want to see you," the junior warden said with more merriment, smiling at her. Vesper sat-up further, stretching her arms out and bending her knees. She began to wonder about her armor when Alistair cleared his throat and averted his eyes from her questioning look. "Uhm, my lady," he flushed, coughing nervously, "your family 'jewels' are showing." Vesper went wide-eyed at his emphasis on jewels, frantically glancing down to find the majority of her bosom spilling out from her shirt. She reddened in the face, folding her arms self-consciously across her chest after pulling up her collar. The grey warden suddenly felt bad for what he said, "Not like they were bad- they're nice- I mean I didn't see them," he nervously waved his hands, "Okay I got a small peek, but they weren't bad- they were…definitely woman." Vesper couldn't have been more red, although she was sure the bashful warden was a shade darker than herself. "I'm just going to make my shameful exit now-"

"Vesper," the new grey warden abruptly stuttered, pulling her sleeve up her shoulder where it had fallen again. She shyly looked away, "Please call me Vesper."

Alistair nodded, "Alright…Vesper," he said slowly, trying her name on his tongue. "I'm just going to make that walk of shame around the camp now-" He stood up from where he had perched within her tent, hesitant to exit when it appeared Dog was escorting him outside. "I'll uh, wait for you by Duncan-" he managed to call over his shoulder before Dog bead butted him in the leg. "Heyy-" he protested as he left through the canvas opening.

The young warden sighed and pondered her chest in wonder, no one had every complimented them indirectly as Alistair had; then again, no one had made a flattering remark about them before. Vesper found herself rather plain compared to ladies that attended her mother's spring salon, all dressed in Orlesian silk that matched their eyes and wearing enough gold and jewels to buy all of Ferelden. She had modest dark hair, a speckle of light freckles across her nose and cheeks, fair skin despite the long days spent under the sun in Highever, and a lean toned body. The young Cousland was no stranger to a sword or a bow, raised to be a warrior; or a 'battle maiden', as her mother had so frequently called them. Vesper frowned, she had fought for freedom with her mother before leaving them to their fate, a painful guilt in spite of her mother's frantic pleads for her to leave. Dog whined and softly licked the few tears that trickled down her cheek.

She needed to get up and see Duncan as Alistair had informed her, so she pulled back the shroud covering her legs and sat-up on her knees. Vesper crossed over her armor scattered across the ground, all nicked and dented; she regarded the chest plate again and made out the large imprint of a Mabari's skull. If a battle was upon them as the grey warden had warned, she wouldn't last five minutes in the field. The young warrior sighed and reached to smooth a ruffled patch of fur on Dog's head, gazing past him to see the shiny reflection of metal by the tent's entrance. Her lips briefly curled up in a smile as she admired the set of armor carefully placed at the end of her bedroll, still polished and unused by anyone. She recognized the armor was familiar to the other Grey Wardens, although this was a much lighter and feminine version for her. Vesper patted Dog and used his massive shoulder to push herself up, wobbling as she did so.

It was obvious Vesper was still unstable from the Joining, using a tent pole to catch her step and keep her balance. Dog worriedly padded at her side as the young Cousland made her way towards the armor, bending over to pick up the breast plate made craftily from Sileverite with the heraldry of the Grey Wardens: two argent griffons. Vesper ran her fingers over the crest, suddenly remembering how her nephew Oren had asked if the Grey Wardens still rode griffons. She abruptly fell to her knees, covering her mouth with one hand while trying to suppress a teary breakdown. Dog leapt to her side, nudging her elbow and licking her face. "It's okay Dog, just remembering little Oren, you remember him right?" the Mabari hound whined and cuddled his head into her lap, "Of course you do." She used an unrolled sleeve to wipe her eyes and then spotted a pitcher and basin behind the armor, obviously left for her to clean-up a bit with. Still a little weak, she tremblingly poured water into the basin, splashing her face and neck. After she was refreshed, she dumped the basin and refilled it with water to give to Dog whom happily lapped it up.

Vesper went on to dress herself in her new armor, keeping Alistair's tunic on since hers was no longer in good use. She had no time to waste, so the young warden carefully laced her leather boots and buckled her new thigh high greaves; attached the griffon plated breast plate with the backplate; latched on her leather vambraces and the large plated spaulder onto her right sword arm; she tied the green scarf of Highever's colors around her waist before buckling her leather belt, a segmented tassets attached to her right hip; and finally her gauntlets, a heavy plated one for her sword arm and a leather one for the other. After pacing the length of her mostly empty tent, Vesper noticed no discomfort, thankful for the chausses to prevent chafing on her thighs from the armor. She smiled down at Dog, whose muzzle was still wet from drinking, "What do you think?" The smart hound paraded around his Mistress, sitting tall in front of her and tilting his head one way and then the other. Dog's tail wiggled excitedly, and he spun around in circles. "Good, it's a little heavy, but I think I'll be fine," she answered him, kneeling to pick-up her father's sword and baldric.

She freed it a few inches from the scabbard, taking in the intricate malachite design of the hilt and blade, curling her plated knuckles fondly where her father's hand once wield it. Vesper could have stood there for hours admiring the last memory of her namesake, but a familiar voice carried into the tent. "Uh, it's me again..." it was no doubtingly Alistair, being even more cautious, "I've been sent from my walk of shame to personally escort you to Duncan and King Cailan- Uh, are you covered?" The lady warden nervously glanced at her bosom again, although it was clearly concealed beneath her armor. She re-sheathed her sword and placed it with her baldric, noisily making her way out of the tent. Even outside the tent Alistair was making the extra effort not to make a fool of himself again, standing promptly with his back turned towards the tent, "Covered are we?" The junior Grey Warden hesitantly glanced over his shoulder, sighing when he noticed the glinting of her armor. "Ah, looks good on you," he grinned. She noticed he too was now in his armor as well.

"I wasn't aware King Cailan met with new Wardens?" she inquired, no fool to Alistair's roaming eyes. Vesper eyed him too, a little surprised too see he was in Splintmail armor, much less extravagant than her own. Did the royal treatment extend to what type of armor she got to wear too? A sighed passed through her lips and the charming Warden returned to the topic.

"Well no- no he doesn't, but he asked specifically for you," Alistair answered, pondering the realization of what she asked of him. Another sigh slipped from Vesper, now becoming severely annoyed with being a Cousland. "I'm sure it just has to do with your father's army, the King's need for glory has made him a very impatient man..." the Warden's words became muted by the mention of her father's army, now dead or dying at Highever. Of course he didn't know, Duncan may have placed her highly as the Teyrn's daughter, but he had quelled any pity by leaving out her family's slaughter. "...impress the ladies...hey, are you okay?"

Vesper looked up blinking and nodding quickly, "Sorry I- I'm still a little woozy from the joining," she lied.

"Of course..." he dragged his voice suspecting a dodge of the truth, "let's get going to meet Duncan before your- before Dog glares a hole through my armor." Surprised, Vesper turned to see her own Mabari sitting genteel with his head lowered and eyes narrowed at the male Warden; she chuckled a bit. "Ah, I can feel it now," Alistair joked, covering his heart with an armored hand, "right through the heart." The young Warden was relieved by the humor, although plain and a little redundant, Alistair was proving to see her as just another Warden and not Lady Cousland. "This way My- Vesper," he quickly corrected, swinging an arm for her to take lead.

The Wardens walked in the direction where the Joining had taken place, Dog walking loyally between his Mistress and the witty Alistair. She was aware of the lingering eyes and whispering, whether because they knew of Highever's demise or that she had been made a Grey Warden informally compared to the rest. Vesper tried not to let it bother her, keeping her focus on keeping pace and direction with Alistair. They took the familiar ruin steps, but instead of turning to the next set, he turned in the other direction and lead through a path lined with ancient pillars. The young Cousland looked up at them in awe, staggering in step when her eyes weren't on the ground. The remains of Ostagar were amazing in that even after centuries of being unmanned, parts of the fortress still stood proudly. At the end of wide path was a broad long wooden table, spread with maps and the company's swords. Vesper spotted the golden glitter of what she assumed was the King's armor, hunched over one of the few maps. Duncan was on the opposite side of the table, looking up when he heard their approach.

"Right, I'll be back at camp when you're done," Alistair said abruptly after making eye contact with Duncan, whom was now looming over the map with the King and one other.

"You won't be staying?" Vesper quizzed, glancing back at the superior company she was expected to join.

"'Fraid not, don't worry though, I'm sure Duncan will send you my way when your business is done," the witty templar tried to comfort her with a grin as she made a passing glance back towards the King, looking back up at Alistair when she felt suddenly more misplaced. She weakly smiled back and turned to approach the senior Warden, feeling the junior Warden watching her back as she distanced herself from him. Luckily, Dog had decided to follow and she felt less alone with each step closer to the King.

Duncan became aware of her lingering presence almost immediately, clearing his throat to bring the attention of the conversing men in her direction. Vesper stood straight before them, Dog sitting properly at her feet. King Cailan smiled in greeting, his frame hidden behind the bulk of his royal armor, but very handsome in person. At his side was a more dark looking fellow, with aging features and an unfriendly scowl as he gave her a once over. "King Cailan, Teryn Loghain," Duncan addressed, giving a name to the sour looking man, "This is Lady Vesper Cousland." Hearing her name was still uncomfortable, for all she knew; Vesper was the last Cousland now. She bowed in honor of the King's audience, even catching Dog lowering his own head. "She is the new Grey Warden who underwent the Joining last night," the senior Grey Warden finished, trying to answer the unsettling confusion on Loghain's face.

"Ah yes, your brother arrived only a few days ago with half of your father's men," King Cailan had a familiar charm, but Vesper couldn't quite place it. His neatly combed hair and trimmed beard was a contrast to most of the men she had saw in camp, all unruly and in desperate need for a shave. She was admiring his stature and mannerisms when he caught her off guard, "I hope your father will soon arrive with the rest of his army as your brother said."

Vesper choked, turning away her eyes from the glorious King, unaware of what treachery her family had fallen to. "I'm sorry to inform you you're Majesty, that my father has been slain with the rest of Highever," she brokenly responded, struggling now to keep her composure.

There was a rattle of his armor as King Cailan turned to the older Grey Warden in shock, "Duncan is this true?"

"I'm afraid so you're Majesty, Arl Rendon Howe purposely delayed his men so that they could storm Castle Cousland while the majority of the soldiers were away," Duncan answered, coming to Vesper's side to relieve some of the tension. She still kept her eyes on the ground, feeling Dog's warm tongue lick at her balled fist. "The Teyrn and his wife sacrificed themselves so that their daughter and I could escape," the Grey Warden went on, "if we hadn't, Arl Howe would have told you whatever he wished." The King's casual demeanour had turned to pain and he stepped closer to the young Cousland.

"After tonight's battle, I will turn my army after Howe!" The young Warden was surprised by the change in the King's voice, suddenly hardened. He placed his hand over his heart and bowed to her, "This I promise you My Lady." It took all she had not to blush, but the young Cousland did, noticing the growing grimace of Teyrn Loghain's face as he witnessed the King's vow. "I assume you need to inform your brother? I'm afraid he's already been sent into the Wilds to scout and won't be returning until after the battle," the King seemed regretful of the decision, but Vesper knew it was now out of his control.

"I am not eager to tell him you're Majesty," she responded in a shaky voice, realizing the potential danger her brother was now in. If the Wilds didn't get him now, Arl Howe surely had waiting plans for her older sibling. A vision of her brother's slain wife and child flashed before her; no, she was in no rush to tell him what happened at all.

A disgruntled huff came from the fourth party member, who was not at all approving of King Cailan's promise to Vesper. "You're Majesty, if you would just please tell the Grey Warden your plan for tonight's battle..." he urged, careful not to give away his resentment entirely. The King nodded and waved for Vesper to stand beside him, over looking a worn map of Ostagar and its surroundings. Teyrn Loghain began to argue with the King about his foolish confidence, while the young Warden kept silent and waited to be addressed again. She looked for a temporary distraction, casually glancing over her shoulder to see if Alistair was still standing at the end of the ruins; he was not. Duncan traced back to where he was standing previously, waiting for the royals to stop bantering with one another. "I have a few men stationed there, it's not a dangerous task, but it is vital-"

"Then we should send our best," the King interrupted, standing up from where he was leaning over the table, "Send Alistair and the new Grey Warden to make sure it's done." Vesper turned to the King surprised; he intended to omit her from battle so easily. The young Warden wanted nothing more than to argue with King Cailan, she was just as much of a formidable warrior as any of his own men, and being held back from the frontline where her father was surely to have fought, was frustrating. However, once this battle was won, she would owe the King a titanic debt when he turns his army on Howe. So, as lady-like as her mother taught her, Vesper bowed her head in acknowledgement of her task.

"You rely on these Grey Wardens too much, is that truly wise?" There was a very heavy accent of doubt as the General spoke, merely side-glancing at Vesper when he mentioned 'Grey Wardens'. His words brought a rise to the King, whom immediately turned to his military advisor in anger.

"Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain," King Cailan shook his head, the blonde locks of his hair moving across his armored shoulders, "Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter where they're from."

Vesper looked towards her Grey Warden companion, she saw that he was thinking hard about something and contemplating on how to approach the subject. While Loghain and King Cailan were still staring down one another, the senior Grey Warden cleared his voice, "Your Majesty." Both men turned to Duncan, "You should consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing." The young lass suddenly looked frightened, what in the Maker's name was an archdemon? Her fear reflected on no others in the meeting, although Duncan still appeared rather stressed. This archdemon didn't get any better when the General mentioned 'dragon' and the King reminded the senior Warden that that was why the Grey Wardens were here, a fit of sickness rolled unpleasantly through her stomach. Suddenly a mage voiced his concern with the King's plan, followed by an interruption be the Revered Mother. Vesper felt uneasy, and gently patted Dog to ease the stress.

Loghain stepped in to agree to the plan before making his departure, leaving the King marvelling in the glory of battling with the Wardens. Although Duncan remained rather perturbed, Vesper would join that Alistair fellow in lighting the beacon and should an archdemon appear, it was apparently the duty of the Wardens to slay it. She nervously bowed to the King as he left himself, watching the glittering of his armor as he disappeared from the ruins. A troubled sigh came from her side and she turned to look at Duncan, "You should go see Alistair, tell him to join you by the fire so that I may inform him of your task," he said. The young Warden nodded and left, suddenly fearing the impending battle.


	3. Rise of the Darkspawn

****I finally updated this story, and boy did it take me forever! I've been so crazy busy, I barely have the time to sit down and write a few paragraphs. My next update will be A Dangerous Thing, or at least I hope so, I've sort of reached a writer's block for that story. Anyhow, enjoy this new chapter, reviews are great, I like to know what you readers think. And I'll try to update as soon as I can!****

**_April 4th, 2012: _Beta-ed by my new beta ObsessionistXO**

* * *

><p><strong>RISE OF THE DARKSPAWN<strong>

* * *

><p>It wasn't a difficult task to track down Alistair. The young Warden found him sitting near the entrance of the Grey Warden camp, propped on a severed stump and happily nibbling on something that greatly resembled cheese. Vesper padded in his direction as Dog ran earnestly for the young man, her heart pounding as she took notice to the sinking of the sun beyond the highest ruin in Ostagar; in an hour there was to be a war. Her eyes fell to the well-used path set before her as her footing came to a halt. Images of battle flickered through her scattering thoughts, the butchering and bloodbath of the innocent staining the memories she was achingly trying to suppress. Lady Cousland could still smell, could still taste the blood of her slaughtered family; and that sensation of rage began to boil again. She was just beginning to see red when a worried whimper was heard at her waist.<p>

Her lost gaze dribbled down to Dog, who tilted his head knowingly as she still hadn't blinked. "Your Mabari ate all my cheese-" the flutter of her eyelashes released Vesper from whatever spell her reminiscing had caused, and she looked up alerted by the abrupt place Alistair had taken in front of her. He was motioning with a copper plate, sprinkled with creamy yellow crumbs, "He just trotted up, pretending to be nice- and gobbled it all up!" The young Warden was still fathoming what the dashing sandy blond, coppery haired Warden was trying to say; although the exact shade of his cropped locks was now beginning to bother her more so.

"I'm sorry, what?" she finally muttered, "What did Dog do?" Alistair was now watching her through narrowed eyes, as if his entire complain was now a lost cause, but Vesper soon connected the dots; or in this case crumbs, which were just as creamy and yellow in Dog's whiskers. "He ate your cheese didn't he?" the young Cousland asked, although it was strictly clear her faithful war hound had. She dropped to her knees beside Dog, who was now purposely averting his eyes from his master. Vesper used a part of her tunic to wipe the crumbs clean, "Bad Dog, you know better than to eat what is not offered to you." A deliberate series of whines came from the hound's dark muzzle and she tilted her head to see that Alistair was still not too pleased. "What kind did he eat?"

That seemed to pike the young knight's interest, who pondered only momentarily before answering, "Cheddar, my favorite." Vesper noticed as Dog's face grew the guiltier and she answered with a small pat on the hound's head before returning to her feet.

"When I can get to a market, I'll buy you more cheese," she told Alistair in sincerity as a surprised look of opportunity crossed his manly features.

"In that case, I want the expensive stinky kind," he quickly jested with that quirky smile she began to notice he had.

"If that is what you wish," Vesper answered, trying to prevent herself from bubbling into laughter from his use of 'stinky'.

Alistair was equally amused by his own comment, "I'm going to hold you to that, you know that right?" He took one final look at his empty plate before discussing other things, "Besides sending your dog to eat my delicious cheese, I'm sure Duncan has some sort of message for me about tonight's battle?"

The young Warden was unsure how to approach the topic, especially since she would be telling the eager Alistair that he wouldn't be bracing his sword or shield for this battle. She wondered if it would disappoint him or he would be very passive about the entire thing, for it was much safer than standing at the frontline. Vesper herself would have appreciated to have been included in the actual battle, but she didn't know her fellow Warden long enough to understand what sort of reaction she might get from him. Therefore, Vesper meekly shrugged and answered blandly, "He asked me to find you so that we can meet him by the fire together." Alistair's silly grin fell from his face and his golden eyes removed all eagerness, as if he knew entering battle wasn't on their agenda.

"Oh...," his voice dragged in obvious disappointment,"I'll just go put this down then." Vesper watched as he sadly sauntered back into the Warden's camp; she didn't like dashing someone's hopes, the young Cousland had treaded those waters many times before. At her feet, Dog was still whining with guilt as they waited for their third companion. So she sat on her knees again beside the guilt-ridden Mabari hound and scratched his back until Dog bounced back onto his feet as Alistair came sulking back. "Alright, let's go," he was smiling and at least a bit cheery when he spoke, but Vesper could still see that he wasn't too thrilled about meeting with Duncan.

Together they passed through the ruins of Ostagar, in the sort of awkward silence that comes between two strangers, but as Duncan's campfire came into sight, Vesper couldn't help but feel relieved. The senior Warden was pacing back and fourth, the warm glow of the large fire catching his face just the slightest with every turn. She could see the age on his face, the withering of battles' tole on him and a sort of untold wisdom that had lead many Wardens before her into battle. Duncan paused in his step once he had heard them enter the ring of pillars surrounding the campfire, and didn't hesitate to get straight to the point, "You heard the plan." He directed himself at Vesper, and she felt Alistair glance at her from the corner of his eyes, "You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the beacon is lit."

"What?" It was clear the junior Grey Warden had been expecting a more thrilling assignment from Duncan and Vesper felt a slight ping of pain for next telling him herself earlier. "I won't be in the battle?" The young Cousland couldn't help but stare when she heard the familiar chime in his voice as he asked the senior Warden for a confirmation on his question; a sense of rejection and purposely being protected for no reason. Haven felt that way many times in her past, Vesper too felt frustrated with King Cailan's plan. As important as the beacon was, both the King and Teryn Loghain had made out the task to be minimal, which was why she initially understood when Duncan agreed to send her in place of the Teryn's own men. However, Alistair was the junior Grey Warden and had far more experience as a Warden than she; it didn't make sense to send such an experienced Warden with her when there were other recently initiated recruits back in camp.

Duncan soon answered the dismayed Warden, "This is by the King's personal request, Alistair." That seemed to strike a chord with Alistair, who had opened his mouth to argue, but quickly decided against saying anything. "If the beacon is not lit, Teryn Loghain's men won't know when to charge," the senior Warden explained, however, Vesper still felt there was no excuse for a trained Warden not to join his comrades in battle.

Alistair scoffed, "So he needs two Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?" The Warden's sarcasm dripped with venom and had caught Duncan off-guard, but Vesper completely agreed.

"I agree with Alistair," she voiced loudly before the senior Warden could speak, "We should be in the battle, if not both of us, then at least Alistair!" The young Cousland hadn't felt so passionate towards something in a long time, and was determined to make her opinion heard. "I understand that I am a new Warden, therefore it is probably best I go to the tower..." she continued in a more settled tone, "But Alistair is the junior Grey Warden, he deserves to be in battle with the rest of the Wardens-"

"That is not your choice," Duncan interrupted sternly, but still managing to remain calmly, "If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there." Vesper's protest for her fellow Warden ended with the reminder of the King, he truly had insisted on her and Alistair to be the ones to light the beacon, so there was no longer room for argument. "We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn..." the senior Warden clarified, "Exciting or no."

Vesper nodded defeated by her superior and turned to Alistair, who too was bobbing his head just the same. He turned to her as well, with a smile that almost thanked her for the effort she had made; but the young Warden wasn't sure, none the less, it was comforting to know he wasn't upset with her. "I get it, I get it..." the junior Warden sighed, now smirking. "Just so you know," he went on in that boyish charm of his, "If the King ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I'm drawing the line. Darkspawn or no." Alistair's banter came as a surprise and Vesper tried to hide her amused grin behind her hand, it was amazing how quickly his mood changed.

"I think I'd like to see that," she replied, not expecting any sort of response.

"For you, maybe," came a witty response out of Alistair, who was happy to know his joke was not ignored by both of companions, "But it has to be a pretty dress." A very conspicuous sigh was heard from Duncan as Vesper was now vividly imagining Alistair in an Orlesian Spring Dress of pink fabric and bows, dancing feverishly with a childish smirk planted about his face as he did the Remigold. It was a hysterical sight that had her softly chuckling into the palms of her hands.

When Alistair's way of enlightening the upsetting news of their task had passed, Duncan went on to remind them where the legendary Tower of Ishal was located across the bridge and gorge she had followed the Warden across; and that Alistair would recognize the signal once they reached the tower's top floor where the beacon was to be lit. Once the signal was lit however, Vesper and Alistair were expected to stay and guard the tower while Teyrn Loghain's men made their charge. Even though the impending possibility of danger was addressed, Alistair still continued to comment on the lack of participating in the battle. This only made Duncan smile and appreciate the Warden's eagerness, to which he ensured there would be plenty more battles for the both of them. As the battle grew upon them, they were reminded of the brief one hour window they had to reach the beacon and cast the fire. Vesper nodded to the senior Warden, acknowledging her duties, but Alistair was still a little reluctant. "Duncan..." he spoke, "may the Maker watch over you."

"May he watch over us all." And with his final words, Duncan bowed to the young Cousland, an almost painful reminder of who she was before becoming a Warden; and then to his protégé Alistair before parting to join King Cailan in the battlefield below.

The wind whispered silently through the emptying camp, the knights splashed a spare bucket of water on their fires and gathered their already bloodied arms, and Vesper watched as the King's men marched to their calling, in a hauntingly familiar fashion. Vesper could still recall her brother, Fergus, promising to return with the King's autograph from where he sat nobly on one of the family's most finest stallions. He smiled and waved, blowing a kiss to his beautiful wife, before trotting beside his marching men. She stepped into the dark shadow of a crooked pillar, watching with fascination as men in the hundreds followed each other across the camp; King's men, mages, Ash Warriors, all united for a single cause. Vesper's interest was pried away when she felt a heavy hand against her plated shoulder, "Duncan said we had an hour, we better head for the tower." The young Warden looked into his face, the disappointment still lingering. She gently nodded as her eyes fell back to the dirt at her feet.

"Uh yes- I just need to get my father's sword," she brushed past him with Dog at her heels, oblivious to how he followed closely behind as she walked into the now abandoned Warden's camp. The merriment she had heard the night prior was all but vanquished, with nothing left but the few logs drawn about a dead campfire; she remembered Alistair's bland stew, how all the other Wardens treated her like any other noble. Keeping mind of the time, Vesper stepped into the last empty tent where her belongings were scattered and dirty from fleeing Highever. Propped against a small chest where she had left it was the family sword, which she strapped quickly to her back before secondly reaching for the shield of Highever; long and rectangular, with the family crest carved into the fine wood. The young Warden heard as Alistair ducked into her tent, admiring the shield.

"I want to thank you for what you said earlier," he said in all seriousness, reaching out to thumb the corner of her father's shield, worn from use. Vesper wanted to smile comfortingly, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. She knew what it was like to be on the sidelines, never there at the frontline, it was a daily routine for the youngest Cousland. "You shouldn't have said it probably-" the normal obvious remarks that Alistair usually made was back, "but I'm glad you did."

The young Cousland lightly grinned at him, "I know how it feels to be denied the chance to prove yourself." Being the youngest and a Cousland daughter, Vesper was never allowed to train with her father's men or join them in sword games. Instead, she was expected to attend her mother's salons and the salons of her mother's friends; to be a proper lady suitable for marriage. Now that that part of her life was gone, she felt guilty for not at least trying to socialize with the other girls her age and act like the noble woman she was. Shaking her thoughts, Vesper attached her shield to her back as well and turned to Alistair, "Let's go."

Vesper made way to lead her companions when a bolt of lightning crossed the span of the now night sky and had the two Wardens looking up as the first few drops of the storm plopped onto their faces. A roll of thunder echoed into the near canyon, announcing the storm as the rain began to fall heavier across Ostagar. She turned to Alistair in worry, storms during battle was both a sign of swarming victory or a bloody defeat; and this the junior Warden realized too, for he simply returned her gaze with a gloomy plainness. The young Cousland turned back towards the bridge when a horrifying guffaw of inhuman roars bounced into the camp from the ravine, and her once worried expression had petrified in realized fear. "Darkspawn..." came Alistair's voice close to her side, "the battle with start in mere moments, we better-" Vesper felt his hand touch her arm and pull her attention back towards him, "When I fought my first darkspawn, I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was." She wasn't sure if what he was saying was exactly what she needed to hear, but she listened, even as a crowd of Mabari hounds barking on the battlefield could be heard. "I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another one, but..." his fingers gently squeezed her arm, "I promise to fight at your side and keep you safe."

She now felt foolish for fearing what she was now made to fight. The novice Warden clutched Alistair's arm int return, giving her most convincing smile of confidence, "Thank you Alistair." He smiled back at her and she too squeezed his arm, "I too promise to fight at your side, and to protect you." With the Wardens being all she had now, Vesper vowed to herself to make good on her oath to Alistair; she wouldn't allow this bloody Blight to take anything more away from her. As an understanding passed between the Warden's, Vesper's arm fell to her side and she turned to lead again, this time lightly jogging towards the bridge.

As soon as the trio had met the bridge, Vesper stopped in her tracks as a flaming boulder hurtled up and over the bridge. A small gathering of archers on the bridge ducked and fell as another boulder crashed into the bridge, causing the entire structure to shake violently. The young Warden glanced down at the reddening battlefield, stumbling as another hot rock was catapulted into the bridge again. Alistair bumped into her and a number of new archers brushed past them, covered in blood and panting as they went to take their stations across the threshold. "Quick, we have to cross the bridge to get to the Tower of Ishal!" Alistair had to holler over the rumble of the battle below and another soaring boulder just to be heard. She nodded at him and after the boulder had cleared the bridge, Vesper immediately began to sprint across the length of the bridge.

The Wardens had nearly made it to the halfway point of the bridge, where a handful of men were stationed around a large ballista prepped to be launched. However the lot of them ducked before the ballista could be set and Vesper was flung onto her hands and knees as a boulder crated into the siding of the ruin. She heard the men as they hollered in pain and she turned to see them withering on the ground in flames, falling still as their flesh continued to burn. Alistair arrived to spring her back onto her feet, and the duo with Dog closely behind made it safely to the other side as another rock skimmed across the stone surface of the bridge. It wasn't long until they ran into another soldier, followed by a mage, by the first ruin slope towards the tower. "You...you're Grey Wardens aren't you?" the soldier desperately asked, breathing heavily, "The tower...it's been taken!"

"What are you talking about, man? Taken how?" Alistair promptly demanded of the solider.

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers!" he hollered through the rain, just beginning to catch his breath as he looked back in horror at the Tower of Ishal peaking over the canopy of trees. "They're everywhere!" he added in panic, "Most of my men are dead!" With the ran mudding the ground and the faint smell of blood through the muggy air, news of swarming darkspawn in the tower they seeked was rather alarming. Suddenly an uneventful task given to them by the King's request had turned into something a bit more challenging.

Alistair, who had been already carrying his shield prepped for confrontation reached for his sword, "Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves!" The boost of confidence in the Warden's voice had Vesper draw her own weapon from the baldric strapped to her back and embrace her shield, ready to storm the tower. She gave Alistair a curt nod before he took the lead in the rush up the slick slope, where a litter of darkspawn were waiting at the base of the tower.

Any humanity that remained with the darkspawn was not apparent as Vesper witnessed a darkspawn tear through the flesh of a dead soldier, blood staining its razor sharp teeth and smeared across the lipless mouth. These humanoid creatures were the very images of monsters from the bedtime tales her father use to tell her, grotesque and utterly terrifying, but Vesper couldn't let this fear control her. She was a Warden now, and that bloodlust of battle was mastering her senses. As the feasting darkspawn looked up, its red beady eyes falling upon her, it shrieked at her and made to attack. Vesper rushed towards the monster, as the others swarmed in, digging the tip of her sword into the thick hide of the first darkspawn, then in a clockwise motion she turned her body and sliced her blade free of the darkspawn only to plunge it up the throat of another. Blood splattered her face and the rancid smell of taint and decay emitted from the dying creature. Vesper kicked the impaled darkspawn from her sword and spun around again, this time smashing her shield into the fleshy face of another demon.

A darkspawn screamed as another of his comrades fell and charged Vesper, but she acted first, throwing her shield at the now near creature and listening as the sharp edge of her father's guard slash at the darkspawn. She moved to watch her comrades, Dog had stormed one and was now mauling it; Alistair pounded one back with his shield and went on to stomp on the darkspawn's head repeatively; and the mage that had stuck with them was blasting back the weaker ones. Just as it appeared their numbers were dying down, she bent over to reach for her shield when they came barreling around the corner. In moments she had her fingers curled around the hilt of the sword of a dead darkspawn, remembering what little she had been taught of wielding dual weapons. First she side-stepped the first darkspawn to rush her, allowing Alistair to hack the creature as he came up behind her. Then as another moved towards her, the young Warden used one sword to block his attack and the other to stab him deeply in the belly.

With their time frame shrinking, Vesper disposed of the darkspawn blade by throwing it into the face of the nearest enemy before swiping her shield back from the ground. The group hacked through more troops of darkspawn as they grew closer to the tower steps, and the more she killed, the less fear the young Cousland felt towards the monsters. Which was a very good thing. For as soon as they reached the stop step and Alistair had tanked through the doors, there were far more darkspawn to be disposed of and still more floors to climb before they would reach the beacon. Scanning the floor, Vesper braced herself again with her shield before rushing to slice through these monsters. However, something told her this would only be the beginning.


	4. The Aftermath

**This chapter I think is weak and boring, but I really wanted to get this done. After this chapter, the story will take on a more original style while staying within the canon storyline. Meaning, the dialogue isn't going to be straight from the game and there will be more scenes added that aren't in the game, all those fun stuff. Also, I won't be updating this story as religiously as my other for now...but that always tends to change as soon as I say something, but I just want to let you readers know this is not a dead story! Enjoy, and review, I'd love to hear what you readers think.**

* * *

><p>o4. The Aftermath<p>

Vesper had never in her life seen her father defeated. The young Cousland and her mother had just enough time to reach the kitchen before the bulk of Howe's men would storm through the gates, and when they had, they were shocked to find not even her dearest Nan was shown mercy. Through the larder was the servant's exit out of the castle, and at this point, they're only hope. Her mother was the first to burst into the larder, frantically looking for her husband, until she spotted him in a pool of his own vibrant blood by the exit. Vesper saw his fatal wound immediately, what appeared to be the run-through of a longsword in his abdomen. He gasped and heaved, in relief, but neither of the women could tell. Her mother and father were talking, but she couldn't hear them, couldn't understand the exchange of words. Vesper looked at her hands, soaked in the rogue blood of her father, dying. She turned to her mother and fell back from where she was knelt at her father's side. Her mother laid dead, in now her own puddle of blood, an arrow protruding from the gushing vein in her neck. A scream fell short in her throat, as panic was boiling into rage. But before her hand could even reach a dagger, the young Cousland looked at the doorway and met the cold steel of a blade to her neck.

"No!" Vesper shot up, a little too quickly, and had to wait momentarily for her eyes to adjust. Sweat beaded across her bare skin, and bare she very much was. The surprised young Warden noticed the clean bandages around her torso, and even felt them around her neck; she saw that she was dressed in nothing but her breast-band and a pair of lady's trousers. At some point her armor had been removed, but when? And most importantly: why? Vesper last remembered darkspawn, dozens of them; Alistair finally getting to fight in this battle. Other than that, her memories were very vague at the moment.

As the idea of a possible ogre encounter touched her thoughts, Vesper's head jerked to the loud thumping of what was a book being placed back on the shelf heavily. A raven haired, fair skin woman glanced through the ebony feathers on her shoulder and directly at her; with unusual yellow eyes. The other woman turned herself to face the Warden, crossing her arms indifferently and revealing she was rather scantily clad. "Well, well, well..." the woman spoke, in a sarcastic nonchalant sort of way, "'tis time you woke." Vesper was still trying to fathom where she was as the stranger padded closer to the bed she had been apparently resting in. "Do not worry, you are safe in our hut- for now," the dark haired woman continued, frowning when she noticed that Vesper was trying to avoid her gaze. A silence lingered between the two women for a moment. "You are much more quieter than the elf your friend brought with him before-" and with that said, Vesper remembered what had happened at the top floor of the tower. She threw herself from the bed and dashed towards the door, pass the cross stranger. "But at least she had manners."

The Warden flung open the rickety door and felt the early afternoon heat against her skin when she stepped out into the open, a weedy clearing at the shore of a shallow lake within what she assumed to be the Korcari Wilds. She fell into the doorframe to catch her breath, just as a greying old woman with the same eerily yellow eyes spotted her with a toothy smirk and spoke, although Vesper couldn't hear her over the Wild's natural sounds. And with a breath of fresh air, she saw him angle his body towards her in relief, surprise. Vesper had never been so alleviated as she stumbled towards Alistair, whom was mostly unharmed from what she could see, save for a few fresh bandages on his arm, he too had been dressed down into his trousers and tunic. She felt the wet grass between her toes as she stepped to him as he spoke, "You...you're alive."

"I thought you were dead-" he added, just as the young Cousland tucked her head against his chest and wrapped her wounded arms around his muscular waist, "for...sure." Vesper felt the surprise leap in his heartbeat, but didn't care, with all she had lost in a matter of days, seeing Alistair almost made her cry. She could feel his hesitation to hold her back, but eventually he did, squeezing her into his broad and towering figure; he too was just as relieved not to have lost anyone else as well. "Thank the Maker you're not," he whispered to her happily.

Vesper gently freed herself from Alistair's bear hug and feebly smiled, "Did you get injured badly?" Her voice was near being a whisper as she reached for her fellow Warden's arm and stroked gently where the bandages had been wrapped. She watched him shake his head, and the novice Warden noticed a small scratch along his cheek. "I remember reaching the top of the tower-" Vesper muttered, furrowing her brows as she desperately tried to remember, "We fought an ogre and then I went to light the beacon..."

"We were overwhelmed by darkspawn," Alistair finished for her, a sorrow filled look in his eye, "You took a few arrows in the neck, shoulder- you had been bleeding so much." With what he said, Vesper consciously touched her neck where it had been bandaged and felt the slight pulse of a sore spot. "One got me in the arm..." just the same, Alistair rubbed his dressed arm soothingly. "This doesn't seem real," mumbled the Grey Warden, turning back to look over the cattails in the water as he shook his head, "if it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower."

"Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad." Vesper glanced at the old woman, dressed in ragged robes of earthly tones and watching her through suspicious beady eyes with dark aging circles around them, her hair was grey and mostly wild, and the young Cousland couldn't help but identify her with old Chasind legends her father use to tell her. She was curious how Alistair was less suspicious with this aging woman and whomever this 'Morrigan' was, he must have had met them on some other occasion, but none the less, Vesper was weary of folks that lived in the Korcari Wilds. They were dangerous, and that was why Duncan had urged them so quickly through them.

Then it hit her, "Wait...what happened to the army? To the King?" Alistair avoided her frantic gaze and hung his head, while a familiar whimper came from her feet, where Dog had been licking her leg happily.

"The man who was suppose to respond to your signal quit the field," the young Warden turned to see the raven haired dame propped against the hut's entrance, her arms still crossed tightly at her chest, and an almost regretful expression, "the darkspawn won your battle." Vesper's eyes grew wide with the news. So much confidence and morale by the King, now stamped out by General Loghain, whom had left them to die. It painfully reminded her of the raid on her home, and she found her fingers curling into fists. "Those he abandoned were massacred."

Alistair shook his head irritated by the news, "The King had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?" Vesper was just bemused in frustration. They had reached the beacon, nearly sacrificing themselves to make sure it had been lit for Loghain's men to see; a plan the General had devised himself. Which could only mean Loghain had had this planned all along, to leave them all to suffer at the hands of the darkspawn horde. The young Warden fingered the dressed wound on her side. This would be the second time she had been betrayed by a trusted, and respected man.

The old woman began to speak again and Vesper looked up as she caught the last of her words, "...Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature." Almost knowingly, the gray haired woman was looking at the young Cousland as she spoke, an eerie grim smile on her dried lips as their eyes met. "Perhaps he believed the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver," she looked back to Alistair, which relieved Vesper. "Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat."

She saw as the junior Warden's face paled and his jaw hardened, "The archdemon." Something about the term sent a spidery chill up Vesper's spine, and even the raven-haired girl, whom she assumed to be Morrigan, looked discontent. Neither Duncan nor Alistair even mentioned this 'archdemon' and she knew by the look on his face that Alistair was just as unnerved as she was. However, before she could even ask, Morrigan's mother was speaking again; beginning to explain. 'An archdemon is an Old God awakened and tainted by darkspawn' was part of what she said, before bluntly reminded them not to ignore history. It became obvious that whether they had won the battle at Ostagar or not, this 'archdemon' would still eventually need to be dealt with. Old God or not, Vesper couldn't allow herself to cower now.

"Then we need to find this archdemon," Vesper voiced, determined to end this Blight and avenge all those lost at Ostagar. Alistair glanced at her unsure, for good reason; they had lost the majority of Ferelden's army at Ostagar and without Loghain's support, defeating the Blight just the two of them was impossible.

The old woman smirked at Vesper and tilted her head, "Such determination. How...intriguing."

"Two lone Grey Wardens against hordes of Darkspawn..." Morrigan coed, "you're better off in the Wilds."

She was right. Two people couldn't fight off a horde and hunt down the archdemon, and possibly fend of any resistance from the Teyrn, Loghain. Vesper thought hard. In all the stories her father shared of the legendary Wardens and their griffons, the Grey Wardens had been praised and held in high esteem by the people; surely they would offer their support. "Surely there are other allies we can call on," she thought aloud.

Alistair immediately reacted, sharing a telling look with the other women, "Of course! The Treaties!" The junior Warden paced again, this time calling off those obliged to aid them during a Blight: dwarves, elves, and magi. Finally there appeared to be some hope in smiting the Blight, and they wouldn't have to be doing it alone.

"...this sounds like an army to me," the old woman commented, crossing her arms as the other strange woman had.

Vesper saw Alistair beam at her, "So can we do this? Build an army?" The way he looked at her, asking for permission, was a surprise; almost like he was handing her the leadership. She couldn't blame him really, the pressure of having to now seek their allies to defeat the Blight all the while taking command of an ever growing army would be overwhelming. The young Lady Cousland nodded, not knowing if she accepting becoming the leader or agreeing to his idea. Either way, Alistair gave her a charming confident smile.

"So you are set then?" the old lady inquired, as if knowing all along, "Ready to be Grey Wardens?" Vesper stole away a look at Alistair, as he did the same, and together the two came to understand a silent oath. Then together they nodded in answer to the old woman, who smiled pleasingly. "Good," she responded, "Now before you go...there is yet one more thing I can offer you." Her grey hair fanned dryly as she turned her head and towards the woman still standing by the hut, a very unpleasant look on her face as she met the old woman's gaze. "The Grey Wardens are leaving shortly, girl," she called to the raven-haired stranger, "and you will be joining them."

Arguing ensued as the scantly-clad Morrigan marched into the clearing, while both Vesper and Alistair were unsure how to receive the old woman's decision. Alistair shortly interrupted their bantering with an opposing opinion, "Not to...look a gift horse in the mouth, won't this add to our problems?" The novice Warden was unsure what her companion meant until he mentioned that Morrigan was an apostate. Vesper had never known a mage, and she never really had any expectations; but seeing Morrigan now and her mother, who was obviously an apostate herself, her opinion about magi never changed. They were human, just as the rest of them were. The old lady quickly made Alistair regret what he said by reminding him of her rescuing them. "Point taken," he muttered, shyly turning to Vesper.

"Mother...this is not how I wanted this," Morrigan protested, "I am not even ready..."

"You must be ready," the old woman interrupted. "Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn," she gestured with her hand at Vesper and Alistair, "they need you Morrigan. Without you, they were surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I." Despite the lack of confidence in the Wardens the grey woman had, she was completely right. Even though there were allies to be found, finding them, just the two of them, was a dangerous task. The more persons in their party, the more chance they had to reaching these other armies. Morrigan was still reluctant, but finally understood with a nod. With her daughter's acceptance, the old woman turned back to the Wardens, "And you Wardens, do you understand?" There was a slight pause before she continued, "I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you must succeed."

"Yes," Vesper answered for the both of them, "Morrigan won't come to harm with us."

Morrigan remained disapproving of her mother's decision and twirled on her heel to make her way back to the hut, "Allow me to get my things, if you please." Her voice carried across the wind, which suddenly reminded Vesper she was still wearing nothing but her brassiere and a pair of tight fitting trousers.

"I think I'll do the same," she said nervously to Alistair, who appeared to just notice himself and was trying to keep his eyes preoccupied somewhere else. Vesper scurried off before he could remind her how woman she was again and followed Morrigan into the hut, where the dark-haired dame was already fastly packing.

Vesper stepped towards her armor, saddened to find they had been cracked and dented, and now were in a very useless condition. She sighed, but was relieved to find her father's weaponry still intact and propped against the wall. "Mother had to pry you from your armor to heal your wounds, they'll be of no use to you now," came the dark sultry voice of her new companion, "Here, you can wear these until we reach the closest town. I'll lead us away from the horde, so you shouldn't worry about possible conflict." Vesper stood up from where she had knelt at her father's things and proceeded to overlook what Morrigan was sharing with her: an apparently unused off-white blouse, a vest dyed in a deep blue, and a pair of new trousers.

"Thank you Morrigan, for this," she said, "and for taking care of my wounds." The apostate tried to remain unfazed, but still managed to give away her surprise. Vesper offered a friendly smile and turned to re-dress herself, thankful to find her boots were still wearable and her leather gauntlets had been spared from Morrigan's Mother's haste to aid her.

"I- Mother did most of the work," Morrigan answered over her shoulder, unable to accept the thanks, "I am no healer."

Vesper was happy to have everything fit comfortably as she dressed, but forgetting her wounds, she hissed when she pulled her scarf tightly about her waist again. "Were my injuries severe?" the young Warden asked curiously, realizing all she had to carry with her was her weapons now.

"Yes, but I expect you shall be fine." Vesper moved to see that Morrigan was done packing a small black pack and was now reaching for her staff propped against the bookshelf; a long uneven branch from the Wilds, that had obviously been cleaned of unnecessary twigs and had curiously twisted at the end where Morrigan had dressed it in bird feathers. Although admiring her craftsmanship, she still looked upset about having to leave. "The darkspawn did nothing mother could not heal," she finished as she pulled open the door, surprisingly waiting for Vesper to join her out the hut. Vesper strapped her shield about her back, and carried her sword out, knowing Dog would be able to carry it for her.

She followed beside their third party, looking up to see Alistair trying to make conversation with Dog, whom still hadn't taken a liking to the Warden. "What about Alistair, will he be alright?" Vesper quizzed, but was far too distracted by her fellow Warden to hear Morrigan's rude comment. And almost on cue, the endearing Warden tipped his head up from Dog and smiled, a most handsome smile that had Vesper smiling back. They had hardly known each other and the only few interactions they had were either awkward, or related to the Blight. Yet, Vesper was oddly at ease knowing he'd be at her side and she at his. He left Dog by the bank of the pond, scratching her war hound's ears before he wandered across the dusty clearing to see her. Morrigan had already stepped aside to share goodbyes with her mother, which left the two Wardens alone.

"How are you feeling?" he was searching her face for marks, and she felt his eyes linger about the scar on her left eyebrow and the more recent on her lip. She too looked for more injuries on his person, glad to see he hadn't suffered as severely as she had. Unlike Vesper, his armor had not been damaged when Morrigan's mother tended to their wounds and was still splashed in blood from the fighting.

"Better, I suppose," she answered softly, "I appreciate your concern." Vesper held her sword against her chest, the sharp edges withheld in the silvery scabbard, the symbol of Highever etched in green Malachite into the surface. Alistair noticed this, remembering the hefty amount of bandages that were placed around her chest and where it was peeking out from her collar about her neck.

He reached for her scabbard and walked around to unstrap her shield, a larger version of the Malachite symbol addressed there too. Vesper watched him curiously, waiting as Alistair struggled to remove his pack as it snagged on his own shield. "Here-" he grunted as it flung free, "I'll carry your sword and shield, and you can carry our packs." The young Warden was bound to argue with him, but her superior shook his head just as her lips parted, "Just until we set-up camp and you get a good night of sleep. I wouldn't want your wounds to open."

"Very well," Vesper responded. Free of the heavy items, she felt the strain on her injuries go away and realized it was probably best she didn't carry much. So she adjusted their packs, which were close to weighing nothing, since neither of them had packed for a journey across Ferelden; and waited by Alistair as Morrigan finished conversing with her mother.

Soon they were joined by their third party member, still unhappy with her mother's decision as she sighed to them, "I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens." Morrigan leaned on her unique staff, while planting a firm hand on her bare hip, "I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. 'Tis not far, and you will find much you need there." With her sense of direction gone, Vesper was unsure what village she spoke or even where the direction north was. Thankfully Morrigan did.

"Then that is where we will go," Vesper answered the waiting apostate, who was surprised to see her suggestion was taken.

Morrigan's pallid purple lips curled into a smirk, "This way then." She passed through the Grey Wardens, beginning down the path that lead away from the clearing and back into the thick Wilds. Alistair obviously still didn't like the idea of bringing the witch along, but Vesper touched his arm and smiled. Sighing in defeat, he followed after the illegal mage and his presence was soon replaced by Dog, whom nudged and licked her boot. The novice Warden knelt down to scratch his ears and flatten the tuff of hair on top of his head. He still whimpered and now began to lick her palm, something he usually did when he was worried or scared.

"Come on Dog," she whispered to him, and together they set off on the beginning of everything.


	5. Imperial Highway

**This story is not dead either, I've just been very busy with how I'd like to conclude _A Dangerous Thing_. So this chapter is kind of another slow and boring one, but I promise it'll pick-up in the next one, I just needed to get this one finished and out of the way. So next chapter Leliana and Sten making their appearance, and just a heads-up, Zevran will make an earlier appearance than what is usual in the game. Planning out a story about the Grey Wardens right now, it will sort of be about the everyday lives of the Wardens, and then the main plot for the story. But as of now, it is in the planning stages. Anyhow, enjoy and let me know what you guys think :)**

* * *

><p><strong>IMPERIAL HIGHWAY<strong>

* * *

><p>They'd spent hours in the Korcari Wilds now, moving north under the guidance of their apostate damsel, whose impatience for the wounded Wardens often lead to witchy glares from over her feathered shoulder. While Alistair usually returned a look of distaste, the novice Warden was trying her best to regulate her hardening breathing and ignore the sharp pains shooting up her sides. It was apparent she had broken some ribs and Morrigan's mother mended them back to the best of her ability, but that didn't save her from the excruciating pain of unnatural healing. She tried to hide her pain with a smile whenever her fellow travelers looked back to check on her, and they seemed to buy the friendly curl of her dry lips. However, as soon as Vesper could see the back of their heads again, her face contorted into that of suffering, and it was only Dog who was not mislead. So it was only a matter of time when the Mabari war hound's whining reached the perked ears of Morrigan, who finally stopped along the trail and turned to her followers.<p>

"Warden, if you do not silence your mangy hound's whining," her hand sprung up with a purple fiery orb floating above her palm, and her lip curled into an annoyed smirk, "I will have to silence him myself." Despite the witch's threat, Dog continued to whine and lick at his master, who failed to put up a front when the two of her companions were now looking at her.

Alistair glowered at Morrigan and turned to Dog adoringly, "He's not mangy!" Then he noticed the erratic behavior of the hound as he jumped and ran in circles around Vesper, whom had stopped and was now clutching her side as she bent over. "Vesper- Are you alright?" he stepped to her just as she stumbled, and he held her up by the shoulders as Dog barked protectively at him. Alistair did a once over, and saw as she moved her hand, that her tunic was stained red, "Her wounds must have re-opened from when we were sneaking past that party of darkspawn." He turned to Morrigan, who was leaning on her staff again and was giving him a maddening glare, but the Warden ignored her, "We need to address her wounds now while we're free of trouble-"

Morrigan waved her hand to hush him and sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, "Very well, let us get off the road. There should be a small clearing through those trees." The dark dame pointed with a long nail at a wall of woods that grew east of their path and moved to maneuver the way, looking up and down the road for anyone who might see them. After having to hide from a few scouting parties of darkspawn, the group had to depend on Morrigan to be more privy to their surroundings, and so far she had done well. Alistair helped Vesper through the brush after the apostate, who held back a branch as they stepped into a very small clearing, but a glade none the less. He took his fellow Warden to a conveniently fallen log and sat her down beside him, as Dog rested his worried head on top of her knees. "Should of known Mother wasn't going to entirely heal the wound," Morrigan sighed as she knelt down to dig through her pack, "Lucky for you that she did leave me bandages to redress the wound. However, I must go in search of ingredients to make you a salve, give me a moment."

With that said, the raven-haired dame disappeared back into the Wilds after tossing Alistair the clean dressings, and left the Wardens together in the dewy glade. Vesper's face glistened from the agony and her hand never left her side as she tried to catch her breath, now that they were sitting down. "How long has it been bothering you?" the former junior Warden asked worriedly, setting both their swords against a rotting stump so that he could be more helpful. The young Warden smirked at him and her gaze wondered to Dog, who she reassuringly began to pat in the head.

"I'd say an hour after we left Morrigan's hut."

Alistair was surprised by how amused she was at her own confession, scratching Dog on the ear and inhaling cautiously. "All this time you've been in pain…Why didn't you say something?" he was bemused by her unmindful attention of her wounds and that she was merely laughing at her own stupidity. "What if we hadn't noticed in time to stop the bleeding-"

"Alistair," Vesper's voice was soft and compassionate as she said his name, smiling still. "I appreciate your concern, but I couldn't tell you," she answered, drawing her hand away to see the slight smudges of blood across her palm. Lady Cousland eased onto her feet and used Alistair's shoulder to balance herself before unlacing the front of her vest. Once that was removed, she touched the hem of her blouse and carefully pulled it over her head. Again she was in nothing but her breast-band and trousers in the presence of Alistair, who was strategically keeping his eyes on the bandages falling apart around her waist. She pulled at the wrappings, moved by the apparent puncture wounds in her side, and when she reached her neck, she felt the same cut pattern. The wounds were glazed in fresh blood from the stretching of her wounds, which was a result of their hasty walking to the village of Lothering.

"And why couldn't you tell me…" the Warden mumbled, taking in her slim and toned physique, now scared and bruised from their battles. Regardless, there were older scars amongst the new, risen and almost shiny from where her tanned skin had healed over time. Alistair wondered what she could have possibly done to have those scars. For one he didn't know much about her past before she stumbled into Ostagar behind Duncan, and she could very well have been some sort of barbaric war maiden up in the north. Or maybe she stole a bone from Dog and he wasn't all too happy about it. But then Alistair's eyes lingered at the scars that curved along her hips and the hip bone, pointing beyond the waist of her trousers. The Warden blushed, surely those weren't marks from a…lover?

He looked up and realized he'd been caught staring. "Well," she chuckled, "if I can't so much as go a few hours with a simple wound, how am I to endure wound after unattended wound in our battles against the Blight?" Vesper was using the old bandages to clean the wounds to the best of her ability, spitting on the bloody cloth to try and rinse some of the blood. Alistair was still staring, realizing the truth in what she said. "If I cannot be strong now," she continued, "and if you cannot depend on me now, how will you be able to trust me when the time comes? I have to learn to lick my wounds no matter how terrible the pain." And as if she was reliving some nightmarish moment, her face hardened and her lip twitched, "I have to be stronger." Something about the way she had said that told Alistair she was no longer talking about the Blight, and being one of the last Wardens of Ferelden. But before he could say anything, a blur of black darted from between two trees.

"Out of the way." Morrigan came baring a broad leaf, an almost slimy substance on its surface. She nearly shoved Alistair onto his back and proceeded to drag Vesper back down onto the fallen tree, using the tip of her fingers to smear the sludge across her wounds, "This should help until we get to Lothering, although I'm not sure you will find anything better." The salve was hot against her skin, but only began to burn when Morrigan used a fire spell to bake the balm onto her skin. She did the same to her neck and as Alistair reached to help with the bandages, the picky witch slapped away his hand and continued to do it herself. Vesper gave him a heartening grin and mouthed her thanks as Morrigan quickly finished with the task. "Well, now that we've managed to waste precious time," she huffed, narrowing her yellow eyes at the young Cousland, "It is most fortuitous that Lothering is but just up the road further along the Imperial Highway."

Vesper was already pulling her clothes back on when Morrigan announced they were close, and she sighed with relief as she felt the pain in her side was ceasing to throb. Before they returned to the road, she removed a leather flask from her pack and tipped it over Dog's lapping tongue. "Thank you Morrigan, I'm sorry to have caused an interruption," she looked up to see the illegal mage was still unwilling to accept her thanks and was eying her with suspicion.

"'Tis was nothing," Morrigan amused and flapped her hand at the Warden, "Now if we could please be on our way, it will be dark soon."

The trio found their way back to the road, Alistair now cautiously keeping pace with her as they followed their guide. He still wondered about her scars, which ones were older and how she had attained them; especially those curiously at her hips. He'd been meaning to ask her of the scar on her lip, still red, but had been healing for a few days now; and the one at her brow, which had separated her left brow at her arch. So he wondered if he might somehow slip in asking about the other marks about her figure. Nevertheless, it would have to wait, for Alistair suddenly felt the unnerving sensation of being watched. The Warden tried to slyly look at his fellow Warden, but her deep blue eyes were already baring into him with a smile, "Something bothering you Alistair?"

"W-what? No," he stammered, realizing she had been watching him for a while now. "I mean..." he sighed, yes something was bothering him, "We reached the beacon and we lit it." Alistair shook his head in disbelief, still trying to wrap his mind around the loss at Ostagar. "Maker, you nearly died ensuring the beacon was lit, and..." the junior Warden paused, "he just abandoned the king."

Vesper related to Alistair's feelings more than he knew, "Sometimes your most trusted ally may be your worst enemy Alistair."

He shook his head, "If Arl Eamon knew what he did, he would never stand for it!" It pained the junior Warden to relive the tragedy of Ostagar in his head, they had come so close. Alistair continued to fume to his fellow Warden, "the Landsmeet would never stand for it! There would- there would be civil war!" Vesper agreed, her father would certainly not stand for it either, but he was dead with everyone else she cared for in Highever. Twice betrayed now, the young Cousland was more uncertain than ever on how Fereldan was going to pull together to face this Blight.

"Arl Eamon," she replied upon recognizing the name, "the arl of Redcliffe?" Vesper had been to Redcliffe on various occasions, mostly when her mother would bring her to the Arlessa's Spring Salons, or when they were passing through during long trips. She had met the Arl personally on one of these occasions, but it has since been years since that introduction. "I didn't see Arl Eamon, or any of his men at Ostagar," she added, getting a surprise response from her companion.

"You're right," he exclaimed, "the Arl probably still has all his men." Alistair fell into deep thought for a few moments before his face brightened up and he turned back to Vesper, "Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!"

Vesper remained doubtful of entrusting another powerful man and expressed her concern to Alistair, "How can you be sure he too won't turn on us?"

For the first time the junior Warden glared at her, and then his features softened in apology. "I know him," he answered in a murmur that was just loud enough for her to hear. "He's a good man," he went on to say with more pride, "and he's respected in the Landsmeet." Vesper could tell that this Arl Eamon was more than just a 'good man' to Alistair, but decided it would be a topic she could pry at later. So instead she smiled at him and nodded, accepting and trusting his word. "I know we have other allies we will need to contact, but would it be alright if we went to Redcliffe first?" the Warden requested, looking very hopeful as he stared back at her.

As the former noble opened her mouth to speak, there was a sigh from their guide and she stopped to wave at the obstruction before them. "Ah Lothering, how dreadful," she groaned before moving along.

And as the clever witch had said, Lothering was just beyond the ruins of the Imperial Highway. It was after some time before the village of Lothering came into view, and the group could breath a sigh of relief that they had finally reached civilization. However it was before their turn off of the Highway, did they finally run into trouble. A couple of caravans had been overturned and torn apart, there were chests and crates pried open, and Vesper could even make out the hazy lump of a dead body. As they came closer, they saw the scatter of items across the road and rummaging through them was a band of shabby men. Surely bandits from how they checked ever crook and cranny of the caravan, and began to dig through the pockets of the dead. It was evident they wouldn't be able to avoid them, so as they drew nearer, the closest of the bandits took notice and called out to his fellow men. "Wake up, gentlemen!" he bellowed, "More travelers to attend to." Vesper who had been leading them now, stopped and sneered at the man as he looked her up and down. "I'd guess the pretty one is the leader."

All the bandits stood and gathered around their obvious leader. As they moved closer, a dumb sounding bandit exchanged words with the leader before he waved off what he said and greeted the travelers. "Greetings, travelers!" he feigned hospitality, as the bandits in the back continued to rummage through the broken caravans.

"Highwaymen," Alistair hissed behind her, followed by an irritated growl from Dog at her heels.

"Fools," Morrigan sneered and shook her head, "I say we teach them a lesson."

The bandit leader shook his head and tsked, "Is that anyway to greet a person? Ten silver and your free to pass travelers, that's the toll in these parts." As if signaled, each of the bandits gathered closer, purposely flashing their drawn weapons at the Wardens and their companions.

Vesper scoffed, "We're no fool refugees," she smirked, "and we're not paying any fees." The head bandit shrugged and reached for his belt, ready to challenge the Warden, but the young Cousland was a step ahead. She kicked him in the chest before he could pull free his blade, sending him flying back into his men. The dumb one went to swing at her with his mace, but Vesper skillfully ducked to dodge it and spun around to elbow him across the face. Another one tried to jump her, but she punched him in the nose and stole from his hand his sword just as the bandit leader was back on his feet.

Vesper poked the sharp tip against his adam's apple, smiling smugly as the leader dropped his sword and waved at his men to stand down. "Now, you're going to give me everything you stole," the bandit made to argue, but the new Warden pushed the point harder against his throat and watched him whimper as a drop of blood was shed. "Hand over everything you stole, or I will kill all your men and let my Mabari chew your most precious equipment off." As she threatened him, Vesper pulled the sword down to his groin and watched him wriggle even more. The bandit nodded feverishly at her demands and the men began to drop their coin purses. "Now, if you would be so kind, what news have you heard?"

"W- well," the bandit stuttered, eying the tip of her sword dangerously close to neither regions, "Loghain as regent has put a bounty on Grey Wardens."

"What?" Alistair exclaimed in disgust, "A bounty, why would there be a bounty on us?"

Lady Cousland turned back to the bandit and prodded him a little harder to answer Alistair's question. "Uh- Everyone's saying the Grey Wardens betrayed the King in Ostagar- and that's all I know! Please don't hurt me." Vesper shook her head at the pathetic man and withdrew her sword as the bandit breathed a sigh of relief. She turned to discuss the revelation to Alistair, privy to the small dagger the bandit had pulled from his boot. "A Warden's head is more than these refugees!" he hollered as he charged at her with his small blade raised, but the Warden was ready. She side-stepped his attack and ran him through with her sword. He gawked at the sword passing through his stomach and dropped the dagger. His men gasped and immediately began to scurry in escape as Vesper let go of the sword and let the dead bandit slump at their feet.

"Well, well, well," Morrigan praised, "you surprise me Warden." The witched passed her to retrieve one of the handful of coin purses left behind, tossing it up a few times before smirking at the Wardens, "We'll have enough to buy a meal, perhaps some supplies before we hit the road again."

Vesper watched as the raven haired dame went on to gather the coin purses, before turning to Alistair whom was still rather awe struck by what had just occurred. "I wasn't aware you were so...skilled," he finally said, "Do most most daughters of noble men know how to fight like that?"

"I don't think so," she answered, smiling as the junior Warden beamed at her. For once she didn't feel judged for her very un-lady like swordsmanship and was glad for the approval from both her companions.

The three of them collected what they could from what the bandits had left behind and moved towards the exit into Lothering. Vesper paused with the others to give it a nice once over. "Ah Lothering, pretty as a painting."


End file.
